


Cold Heart

by writetofillthespace



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, Love, Slow Burn, USWNT, alternative universe, they both play soccer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetofillthespace/pseuds/writetofillthespace
Summary: This fic is inspired by Thirstory's album Cold Heart. I highly recommend listening to it before or while reading. This fic about learning to exist and find happiness and love for others and yourself in the real world while the real world is trying to chew you up and spit you out. Tobin and Christen don't know where their lives or their relationship is going, and there is pain and struggle and joy and everything in between. It is loosely based on reality (that they are two professional soccer players), although many creative liberties will be taken.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	1. Searching

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first multi-chapter piece of writing. I have had this idea for months and am so excited to finally be writing it. I can't guarantee that I will update regularly, but comments and kudos are really encouraging! Please share your opinions, thoughts, desires, etc., and let me know what you think. I would love to draw inspiration from you all!

Christen runs down the hall gripping her key card till it bends. It fumbles in her hand as she tries to blink away the pool of tears in her eyes to swipe in. She pushes past the door through the living room of their suite, dropping her bag and coat along the way. She reaches for the handle of their bedroom door, only to feel it resist under her palm.

She can feel blood pounding in her ears. She takes a breath and steadies her voice as best as she can.

“Tobin?” She presses her ear to the door. “Tobin? Are you in there?” She pats her hand flat against the door.

She hears the rustle of bed sheets and releases a breath of relief she didn’t realize she was holding. 

“Tobin, babe, can you open the door?” Christen feels her voice catching in her throat as she lets the panic and desperation of the last hour finally set in. She kneels on the ground, letting her forehead rest on the door and hold the weight of her upper body. She places her palms flat on the door near her head, praying Tobin could feel her energy through the door. 

When she hears no response, she tries again. “Tobin please open the door for me, babe. Please let me in,” she whimpers, using all her strength to keep the last bits of her emotions from consuming her. She lets her tears fall silently and streak down the smooth, white paint of the door.

“Tobin –,” she whispers.

“I can’t,” she finally hears through the crack of the door hinge.

The sound of Tobin’s voice washes that final wave of emotion over Christen. She lets out a sob, adrenaline and worry coursing through her body. She licks the tears off her lips in an attempt to collect herself, but she fails.

“Tobin, please let me in. Please let me see you. Please tell me what’s going on,” she cries.

“I…” Christen strains her neck to press her ear even closer, hoping for any type of indication of what is going on in Tobin’s head. “I can’t,” is all she gets.

“Tobin…please,” Christen begs with her forehead pressed to door. “Please…”

She waits.

And there’s silence. 

Silence so loud that Christen can feel the walls closing in around her. Silence so suffocating that Christen struggles to keep her lungs moving. Silence so crushing that Christen feels her body slump to the floor as her tears flow freely from her eyes. 

Christen cries hard. She slaps her hand desperately against the door in a futile attempt to open it, but slowly her body gives up and her hands fall to the ground. She rests her back against the door, curls her knees up, and lets her chest heave. She cries and hears the sound disappear into the thin walls of the hotel room. Each breath in racks her body, and each breath out leaves her with less energy than the last.

She cries, and soon, her body gives into the exhaustion and lulls her mind into a hazy sleep.


	2. Repeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! I know it's been a really long time. I posted the first chapter and then quickly convinced myself that this story isn't good enough to be written/I'm not a good enough writer to write it. But I've been listening to the inspiration album (Cold Heart by Thirdstory) a lot during this quarantine and thought I'd give it another go. Let me know how you feel about this chapter! I'm gonna keep writing, and I'll hopefully have the next chapter out in the next week. I know this one is kinda short, so I'll try to make them longer as I get further into the story.
> 
> Fun game: listen to the album and try to guess which song inspired this chapter in the comments!

Trap.

Asses.

Pass.

Move.

“Yup, yup, ball!”

“Ya, Rose, behind.”

The silence of the open field was filled with sounds of short breaths, feet hitting grass, and balls hitting the outsides of a mini net.

Trap.

Move.

Asses.

Shoot.

“NICE Tobs!”

“YAAAAAAA!”

“LET’S GOOO!”

The red pinnie wearers all dogpile onto her, cheering in celebration, gloating in the victory. Celebrations follow them through the locker rooms and onto the bus, and they’re back at the hotel in no time.

Morning practice turns to afternoon film session turns to team dinner turns to bedtime.

“Alright guys, see ya tomorrow morning!”

“Yeah see ya.”

“Alex, wait up!” voices call out as they disperse from the meeting room, some heading to their rooms, some heading to others’ rooms, and some heading to a quiet corner of the hotel to get some work done or relax a little before.

Tobin taps the “7” button as a yawn rolls through her lungs.

“Tobs! Wait! Hold the elevator!”

She quickly sticks a hand between the closing doors as the sound of rushing feet on the lobby tile get closer.

“Thank you, thank you!!”

“’Course. What floor?”

Christen glances at the button board. “Umm six,” she replies as the corners of her mouth lift up. The exhaustion is clear in her voice, but what’s new? It’s day five of a two week camp. Even with days off like yesterday, everyone knew it was going to be long and hard, but that’s what each one of them signed up for.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s alright. A little sore and stuff, but it kinda always is. Not really sure if it’ll ever be the same as when I was younger. But thanks for asking.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright,” Christen encourages as the elevator dings. “See you tomorrow, Chris.”

“Yeah! Goodnight Tobin!” Christen winks as she backs out of the elevator.

“Wait Chris-” Tobin steps forward, but the doors slide shut too quickly and the metal box stars its journey again.

“_\- do you wanna hang out for a little_?” Tobin thinks. “_Nah dude, forget it. Just get to bed._”

Day six, repeat. Wake up at 6am. Breakfast at 7am. Lift session at 9am. Hotel. Recover. Hydrate. Lunch. Rest. Practice at 4pm. Hotel. Recover. Hydrate. Dinner. Massage.

Tobin hobbles out of the massage room, relaxed but sore in the way that her muscles feel like a magnet are pulling them to the ground. She heads down to the lobby to see if she can find any friends to pass some time with before bed.

“Tobs!” she hears a harsh whisper from across the grand room. She turns her head to find Christen’s bright smile beaming at her. “Tobin!” Christen whisper-yells again to make sure she has the girl’s attention. She motions her hand and Tobin follows, sauntering over the couch in the corner that overlooks the hotel pool and Florida beach.

“Hey! Watcha doing?” Christen enquires.

“Just wandering,” Tobin replies simply, her permanent slime adorning her face. She looks around for a place to sit, but the love seat that Christen is sprawled on is not really meant for two people. Still, Christen shifts her limbs and torso to make some room and rests her feet on the coffee table in front of her.

Tobin slides into the available space, lining up her feet next to Christen’s on the coffee table. The entire length of her right side from shoulder to knee burn as it rests against Christen.

“What’re you reading?” Tobin gestures at the book held open between Christen’s fingers.

“Becoming – Michele Obama’s book?…I’m really enjoying it. Just started it on the first day of camp, but I’m going strong,” she references her progress through more than half of the pages. Tobin nods and they settle into comfortable silence quickly. A muffled buzzing sound interrupts the quiet. Christen sits up patting around her body and the couch in search of her phone. She pulls it from the depths of her pocket before swiping to answer. She turns to Tobin.

“Gimme a minute – it’s Devin,” she quickly whispers before turning her attention back to the call.

“Yeah, no problem,” Tobin meekly responds, though it’s not like Christen is paying attention anyways.

“Hey babe!”

Tobin pulls out her phone, content with surfing through Instagram and continuing to curate her virtual inspiration board. Minutes later, Tobin is pulled from her social media haze when Christen shifts to rest her elbow on her knee and her forehead in her hand.

“- Yeah, babe, I told you last month that I would have tomorrow off. I though we agreed that you would come down here to visit. If I had known that you weren’t going to be free, I would’ve tried to see if I can make it up there.”

“- Devin, you never told me! How was I supposed to know?!”

“- No, I get that this meeting is really important, and I’m really proud of you. You know that! But there’s just no way I can make it to Charlotte and back in one day on such short notice – I mean I’m not even supposed to be leaving this area really!”

“- Ok, yeah.”

“- No I’m not mad. Just upset I won’t get to see you. Just let me know a little bit earlier next time. That’s all I’m asking.”

“- K babe, love you too. Talk to you later.”

Christen moves the phone from her ear to her lap, but the rest of her body stays still. Tobin senses that her presence has been forgotten, so she tries not to startle her friend when she speaks.

“Chris? Is everything ok?”

Christen tenses a little, but a deep breath allows her body to unfurl and lean against the back of the couch again. “Yeah, it’s fine. Devin just has a meeting tomorrow that he hadn’t told me about, and we had planned for him to visit tomorrow ‘cause I haven’t seen him since he came to Utah last month, but it looks like he won’t make it now.” There’s a pause. A silence. A moment when Tobin doesn’t know what form of comforting Christen needs the most. A pat on the back? Encouraging words? A change of topic? But she is rescued from the moment quickly.

“It’s fine. I’m just bummed, but we’ll just figure something else out.” Christen sits up collecting her phone and book in one hand and turning her torso to face Tobin. She forces the sides of her mouth to turn upward and says, “Anyways, I was gonna go up to my room and make a cup of tea if you wanna join.”

“Sure!”

They make their way to the elevator, and although Christen is trying to put her phone conversation behind her, Tobin can tell it’s still weighing on her mind. Tobin finally finds courage in the hum of the elevator gears working to lift them up to the sixth floor.

“Chris, just call him. Talking to him has got to be better than beating yourself up.” Christen connects her eyes with Tobin’s, and she lets her lungs deflate. Tobin hopes that the worry leaves her friend’s body along with the air.

“Yeah…I will,” she brushes off. She pauses a moment, almost as if she’s considering whether or not to say the next part. “I really love him…But the last few months have been really hard. And neither of us is to blame; we’re trying our best. It’s just been hard doing to the Utah-to-DC thing.”

“_In a moment like this, everybody wants a hug._” That’s all Tobin could think. But she grabs the handle bar behind her with both hands and squeezes it tight. Instead she reflects, “I get that. I mean, I did Portland to Paris for a while, and I just couldn’t keep up with it. But then again, I don’t know if we were ever as strong together as you and Devin are.” It was true. Tobin had seen them seen them apart for years before they were a couple and seen them together for the last two years, and although they were strong people on their own, their power together was formidable. But this is the first time in her years of friendship with each of them that she has seen either falter. Every relationship is bound to have its ups and downs, but Devin and Christen always seemed effortlessly on the same page. Tonight, though, there is something different in the way Christen speaks about her boyfriend.

Christen reaches for her back pocket as they approach her room. When she opens the door, she turns to look at Tobin, momentarily forgetting about her earlier invitation. She tried keep her surprise and quick recognition of her face, but Tobin clocks it easily. They walk into the darkness, only lit by the bedside light on Becky’s side of the room. Tobin perches on Becky’s empty bed as Christen beelines for the bathroom.

“I’m just gonna wash my face real quick. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“M’kay,” Tobin acknowledges. But Tobin knows this about Christen. Tobin has known her for too long to not know this about her friend. Christen washes her face when she is trying to calm herself down – when she is trying to keep her emotions from consuming her. She has done it for years after a frustrating practice or at halftime of a game when she feels like she has made too many mistakes. She did it as a way to tell herself to keep her head in the game; a quick refresh and reset. But hanging out with your friend shouldn’t feel like you have to compose yourself or push your emotions away.

Tobin lifts herself off the bed and approaches the closed bathroom door. She leans her forehead against it, listening to the running water and deep steadying breaths coming from the other side.

“_Fuck. I could help her if she just asked me to._” But Tobin knows it isn’t her place. Not right now. So she waits. Instead takes a deep breath and works her way through her next words. “Hey Chris?” The water shuts off.

“Yeah?” an unsteady voice responds, muffled by the heavy wooden door.

“I’m actually gonna get going – gonna head to bed.”

“Oh…okay. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired.” They both pause. Christen listens for the footsteps leaving, relieved to have some time alone but disappointed to not be able to spend time with her friend. Christen knows Tobin just as well as Tobin knows her. She knows her friend can sense her stress. She knows her friend is trying to give her space. Tobin presses her forehead harder into the wood of the door. “You should call him, Chris,” she tries one more time.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll call him before I go to bed.” Christen listens for movement again, and when she confirms that Tobin is still outside the bathroom, she whispers, “Thanks, Tobin,” letting out her gratitude for the ways in which Tobin knows her.

“Anytime Chris.” The door of the hotel room clicks open and shut. Christen back herself up until her calves connect with the bathtub and she sits, absorbing her feelings of doubt and allowing herself to work through them.

Day seven, repeat. Wake up at 6am. Breakfast at 7am. Fitness testing at 9am. Hotel. Recover. Hydrate. Lunch. Rest. Practice at 4pm. Hotel. Recover. Hydrate. Dinner. Massage. Bedtime.


	3. Drop by Drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! A little longer this time. I'm trying to work up to a slightly longer length, but it'll probably take me a few chapters to get there. Anyways, let me know what you think! We're getting closer to some of the juicy stuff!
> 
> ALSO the challenge continues: let me know which song off the Cold Heart album by Thirdstory you think each chapter is inspired by (this one is pretty hard). Multiple chapters might be inspired by the same song. This chapter was also inspired by a club I went to in Quito, Ecuador! They played such good music and they had a nice little outdoor patio area.

_“Dime dónde e' que está la bebida, ey_

_Y yo le llego_

_¿Dónde están las mujere'? Eh, eh_

_Y yo le llego_

_Dime dónde está mi gente, eh eh_

_Y yo le llego, ey_

_¿Dónde e' que están los cuartos, manito? Ey_

_Y yo le llego”_

The floor vibrates with every beat. Every heart pounds in synchronization with the flashing lights. The women move with the music, using alcohol to loosening any stiff joints and sore muscles. Camps in Florida are always the most fun because the post-last-game-of-camp-club scene is the best. Discotecas always play great music and have the biggest tequila pours.

Camp isn’t technically over yet, but the “my body is a temple” mentality could relax a liiiitle. The next two days consist of film sessions, strategy and group philosophy meetings, and individual goals meetings with Vlatko. So they can afford to let loose a little.

And by a little, they mean five rounds of tequila shots in, on a Saturday night, at 11pm.

Tobin bops around on the dance floor, fully aware of her awkward hip movements but two immersed in the pure enjoyment to care. Somebody’s fingers gently touch under her elbow. Before she can turn her head she hears, “I’m gonna get another drink. Wanna come?” yelled in her ear. The warm breath on her ear and hair brushing her shoulder make her shiver. She nods her head quickly and turns towards the bar. As she drops her arm, and the hand resting under it slides down to grab her fingers.

It’s so that they don’t get separated.

Tobin pushes, shoves, and elbows her way through the crowd, clearing a path for the hand that’s wrapped in hers. When they finally get to the bar, they breathe a sigh of relief. They wedge themselves between to groups of people and lean against the cool countertop, welcoming the momentary relief from the hot and humid room.

“Alright, what can I get you?”

“Are you kidding? This is on me if anything! You bought coffee yesterday.”

“Chris, you're not paying for my drink.”

“And I should let you pay for mine becaaaauuse??”

“Because it’ll be easier. I already have a tab open.” Tobin waits a second, locking eyes with her friend and holding on as long as she can without relenting. “Come on, just let me buy this drink. Just one!”

“Fine,” Christen relents. Tobin looks at her expectantly, waiting for her drink order. She watches the gears turn as a slow smirk makes it across her friend’s lips. Tobin follows Christen’s eye line to the big glass doors that lead out to the patio area. There are small standing tables, couches, and a small fire pit. “But only if you get us both margs, and we sit outside for a few minutes and drink them,”

“I can live with that,” Tobin agrees easily, her smile growing.

Christen pumps her fist in celebration.

They saunter through the doors, frozen margaritas in hand. As soon as they get out there, Tobin notices that the patio is filled with people paired off into make-out sessions. She glances at Christen and realizes that her friend has taken no notice of this fact. “_Christen’s more of a lightweight than you. Keep an eye out for her,” _Tobin mentally notes to herself for the rest of the night.

They find a plush, faux white leather couch available. Each woman folds one leg under herself, letting the other hang and leans her back against an armrest, effectively facing each other.

“So. What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well why’d you wanna come out here?” Tobin questions, confusion written all over her face.

Christen mirrors the confusion, but Tobin traces the crack of falseness that works its way across her expression. “I just wanted to take a break! It’s so fucking hot in there!” Christen explains, throwing a finger in the direction of the building to articulate her point.

Tobin raises her free arm up in surrender, deciding not to push. “Alright, alright, fine. My bad.”

But Tobin knows how Christen works. She knows that Christen has had something on her mind for days, but she hasn’t found the right moment with the right person to express it. For the last few days, Tobin has watched Christen’s eyes scan the breakfast room for a place to sit, both over-calculating her next movement and also lost in her own thoughts at the same time. Tobin has watched the quick breath she takes before walking onto the bus, preparing to be “on” and then immediately shut “off” when she thinks she’s alone. But Tobin also knows that Christen will say it when she needs to, when something adds one more drop to her full cup and lets whatever is bothering her spill out. So Tobin waits, hoping that she can be there for her friend when the cup spills over.

They sit outside, enjoying the breeze, chatting about funny moments from today’s win, and sipping on their drinks. Soon, only the melted ice and plain alcohol is left in the bottom of their glasses. It’s the worst part of a frozen margarita, but the part that always has to come as the last sip in the end.

Neither of them has spoken in a while, just letting themselves breathe before preparing to return into the jungle of bodies inside. Tobin turns her gaze from the fire pit to Christen’s profile. The shadows across her features sputter in the light of the fire. Her eyes are glazed and unfocused. Her breaths are slow and shallow. Tobin thinks that maybe the alcohol was the last drop in the cup.

“I think I might breakup with him.”

Silence.

“Devin, I mean.”

Silence.

“I don’t know,” Christen whispers, almost like she spooked herself by saying the words out loud. She turns her head to face Tobin. She tries to absorb Tobin’s energy, always a steadying force in her life.

“I just…” Christen looks away again, her eyes wandering the lines of the cement tiles laid across the patio. “I-I, I don’t know if he loves me as much as I love him.”

Tobin reaches over and places her hand over Christen’s. Christen turns to face Tobin at the contact, and Tobin gives her another encouraging nod. Christen’s eyes fixate on the hands resting easily in the middle of the couch.

“I mean, he loves me. He does. And we work. You know? Like, we WORK work. Everything makes sense with us, and we’re ALWAYS on the same page…At least we used to be on the same page. I don’t know. Lately it feels like we’re not on the same page as much.” Christen’s eyes drift back to Tobin’s, which haven’t moved since this conversation began. This time though, Christen’s bright eyes are covered in a layer of thick sadness, threatening to topple onto her cheeks.

“Have you talked to him about it?” Tobin questions, keeping her voice calm and soft.

“Yeah, I have. I called him that night,” Christen references, and Tobin easily knows which one she’s talking about. “And we’ve talked since then, too. But’s it still isn’t the same as it used to be….” her voice trails off into nothing as if she’s holding something back.

“What do you mean?” Tobin gently urges.

“He doesn’t really try anymore,” Christen confesses, her voice so soft that Tobin can barely make the words out over the thumping coming from the club. “And he doesn’t seem to want to try. And-and I can’t make him try, you know? I don’t want to try to convince him to want this! That’s not fair to him, and it’s definitely not fair to me!” she finishes, the words tumbling out faster and louder than she means them.

Tobin watches quick panic flash across her friend’s face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you. Really. I just wanted to come out here for a breather. I’m sorry,” Christen hurries, preparing to stand up.

“Wait, wait, wait. Chris, come on,” Tobin grabs Christen’s arms before she can stand.

“No, Tobs, it’s totally fine.”

“No, Chris. Just talk to me. I’ve been watching you go through this on your own for days now,” Tobin reasons with as much kindness in her expression as she can muster. “Just talk to me Chris,” she pleads again, hoping Christen can her the genuineness in her voice through the static of the alcohol.

Christen relaxes back into the couch, and Tobin takes a deep breath through her nose.

“I just don’t know what to do. It doesn’t help that I haven’t seen him in a month. Honestly, he only came to Utah to visit last month because I practically begged him.” Tobin tries her best to not notice the embarrassment that paints Christen’s expression. “He just kept telling me he was busy, and finally I snapped and asked him what else I have to say to convince him that I really miss him. And that’s when he bought his ticket to visit. And I know he’s really busy right now with the possible trade and the new contracts and everything, but…” Christen stops. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, steadying her jaw before it starts quivering into a sob. “You know he hasn’t even told me he misses me. Since last month. He hasn’t said he misses me a single time. I say it to him every day, Tobin, and he hasn’t said it back. It really hurts.” Tobin’s heart breaks watching her friend’s strength collapse in front of her. Heavy tears drop from Christen’s eyes, but she tenses every muscle in her face to hold its form and not break down completely.

“Hey, hey,” Tobin coos as she scoots closer to the crying girl and wraps a gentle arm around her. Christen let's her body relax finally, allowing Tobin to be the support that she can't muster herself right now. But it still doesn’t fall completely. She tries her best to hold onto her pride on the back porch of this club. “Hey, you’re gonna be alright, Chris. I promise you that. You will be alright.” Tobin takes a deep breath before continuing, “I can’t make this call for you. I can’t tell you what’s worth it and what’s not. You’re gonna have to decide this one, and I know it’s hard, and I can’t tell you how much it breaks my heart that I can’t take some of this pressure and stress off of you. But I will be here through whatever you decide. I will have your back, Christen; I will always have you back.”

Christen nods. They sit in silence for a while until Christen’s breathing steadies and her tears cease. Tobin glances at her watch and notices they’ve been outside for close to two hours. She peeks at her phone and sees a series of texts from Crystal from fifteen minutes ago.

Crystal [12:37am]:

Hey!

I think everybody went a little too hard a little too early tonight lol

I think we’re all heading back to the hotel. Jules and I saw you and Chris sitting outside and it looked kinda serious, so we figured we’d just text you. The two of us and Becky are pretty sober so we’ll handle calling all the Ubers and stuff

Just let us know when you get back to the hotel

Also, just give Chris an extra hug from me

Tobin smiles as she shoots off a response confirming that she saw the messages and will let them know when they get back. She puts her phone back down in her lap and wraps her other arm around Christen’s shoulder. She squeezes and lifts her chin to the top of Christen’s head. They sit like that for a minute, and Tobin hopes that she can be the blanket of comfort that Christen needs right now.

Tobin pulls back a little so she can catch Christen’s eyes. “Let’s head back to the hotel, yeah?”

Christen nods. They shift and stand. Tobin reaches for Christen’s hand again, ready to clear a path for her through the crowd of people and emotions. They make their way to the front, and call their Uber. As they stand on the curb, Christen leans into Tobin, resting her head on Tobin’s chest. Tobin’s arms wrap around Christen’s shoulders once again, enveloping her in love and blocking out the world for a few seconds. Tobin smiles from the small success of creating a safe spot for Christen, even if it’s temporary.

When the car pulls onto the highway back to the hotel, Tobin feels fingers curl around hers on the middle seat. She smiles at her friend, and Christen responds with eyes that are covered in unfamiliar sadness. They look out of their respective windows and travel the rest of the way in silence.

“Tobin, you don’t have to walk to my room with me. I won’t break down crying in the hallway between the elevator and my room. I promise,” Christen says when Tobin doesn’t press the button for her floor. They both smile, Christen because she is trying to find joy in this moment and Tobin because she likes it when her friend smiles.

“I know,” is all the response Tobin gets.

They slowly make their way to the door, and Tobin can feel the tension in Christen’s body growing once again.

“Um, I just wanna say thank-”

“Don’t. Don’t, okay? I’m here for you. I got you, Chris.”

Christen nods, her eyes traveling down to the floor once again. She nods before matching Tobin’s gaze again. “Okay, then. Goodnight, Tobs.”

“Goodnight, Chris. I’ll see ya in the moooorning!” Tobin cheers as she backs away from the door. She continues her slow backwards steps and watches as Christen pulls out her key card, swipes into the room, and shuts the door behind her. Only then does she turn around and walk back to the elevator.


	4. Don't - Can't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAY longer chapter today. I was really feeling it! I was considering cutting it up into two chapters, but I wasn't satisfied with the breaking point, so I just left it whole.
> 
> I really appreciate all the feedback; keep it coming!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by two songs on the album Cold Heart by Thirdstory, but mostly by Goodbye My Friend. Great song. Definitely go listen to it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tobin hears the elevator ding and the doors slide open for the thirty-third time. She doesn’t even look up. It’s been middle aged mom after middle aged mom walking out of that elevator for the last half an hour. But she hasn’t moved an inch. She’s perched on the plush couch between the elevator and the glass door that leads out to the pool and beach area. Her foot taps a steady beat into the marble slabs of the floor. Her right hand rubs over every wrinkle and fold of the left. She hears a child’s laughter exiting the elevator and watches two sets of little fit scatter across her peripheral vision towards the grand door.

“Sarah, don’t be too rough with your brother!” she hears. The laughter, the voices, the footsteps all sound muffled, like they’re underwater. Or she’s underwater. She can’t tell. Either the rest of the world is drowning or she is.

For the first time in the last half hour, she hears a sound that is crystal clear, and it makes her feel like maybe she’s not underwater. It’s her name.

“Tobin….Tobin?”

Her head shoots up, but she quickly realizes she was wrong. She was wrong about not drowning because she can’t feel air in her lungs anymore. She can’t feel any heat in her limbs. She can’t feel the strength of her spine holding her up.

“What’re you doing?” Christen asks, confusion filling the corners of her face.

Words speed through Tobin’s mind. She opens her mouth to try to let some of them out, but it fills with water instead.

Finally, she finds the surface, air ripping into her passages. “You look really nice,” is all she can manage to gasp out.

“Thanks! Devin wanted to have a nice dinner, so I thought I’d get all dressed up. This is the only real outfit I brought to camp with me, but I’m so glad it’s kinda on the fancier side because otherwise I…”

The words muddle together, and Tobin can feel herself being pulled underwater once more. She thinks of this beautiful woman standing in front of her. She thinks about how this outfit that Christen is so excited to wear will be the outfit she gets engaged in. She thinks how nice Christen looks in the light that’s streaming in through the big glass door.

She climbs her way back above water.

“Tobs, anyone home?” Christen glances at her watch. Tobin knows this watch. It’s the one Christen got from her mom at her 100th Cap ceremony. It was her dad’s first anniversary gift to her mom. A thin chained, gold rimmed, small faced, delicate Gucci watch. Christen wore it on special occasions. Every so often, whenever Christen wore the watch, she would close her eyes and tilt her head up while her fingers smooth over the glass watch face. She only did it when she thought nobody was watching, but Tobin always saw.

And all at once, the water was gone.

Christen reaches for the handle of the massive glass door, but an arm crosses her body and reaches it first. She smiles at her kind friend for opening the door for her. But that smile quickly drops when Tobin’s hand doesn’t move.

“Wait. Don’t go out there,” Tobin whispers. She sounds surprised at her own voice - at her own actions.

“What do you mean? Is it supposed to rain?” Christen tilts her head to get a better look at the sky out the glass doors. There is not a cloud in sight.

“No, Chris, just don’t go out there.” Tobin’s stare burns holes into the marble tile under Christen’s feet. In her head, she imagines the floor turning to glue and trapping Christen where she stands. She pictures chirping birds dropping a feather crown onto her friend’s head while butterflies twirl around them. But in reality, she hears blood pound through her ears like thunder.

“Why? Tobin, what’s going on?” Christen wonders warily. She bends at the knees, attempting to catch Tobin’s eye line, but it’s bolted to the ground like steel.

Slowly Tobin’s eyes lift up to meet Christen’s. There is a storm brewing in those dark pupils, but Christen can’t figure out where it’s coming from.

“Chris – I…”

“Tobin come on – Devin’s waiting for me.”

Tobin takes a deep breath.

“There are things I need to talk to you about, Chris – things I need to say.” Christen waits for some context, but the frantic searching that Tobin’s eyes are doing across her face makes her think she won’t get what she’s waiting for. “Things I can’t say if you go out there,” Tobin continues.

“Tobin, what’s going on? Just talk to me. I –”

“I can’t, Chris. Not if you’re going out there.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Christen rushes out, concern draping her face.

“If you come upstairs with me right now, Chris, I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t go out there,” Tobin practically begs.

Christen’s eye catches movement outside the big glass door. She turns her head to find the source of the movement. Devin walks down the path towards the glass door. “Tobin, if this is urgent, I’ll come upstairs with you right now. But if not, he’s waiting for me.”

“I just – It’s not…it can wait,” Tobin stumbles.

“Okay then, I have to go. I’ll come around later, okay? We’ll talk about it, I promise.” She meets Tobin’s eyes once more. “Tobs, let me go,” she pleads. Tobin drops her arm. The thought crosses Christen’s mind that this moment feels final, but then she lets the breeze of the shifting door blow the thought from her mind as Devin pulls it open.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Hey babe.” She turns to Tobin with those kind eyes that Tobin tries her best to memorize. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” she asks Tobin.

“Yeah, for sure.” Tobin’s eyes connect with the floor once more. “Have a good dinner.”

The door slides shut, cutting off the gentle Floridian breeze, and Tobin feels her air supply get cut off with it.

An hour later, Tobin lays on her bed facing the ceiling, knees bent over the edge, shoes still on. She plays and replays the video in her mind. She watches Christen’s left hand curling around the crook of Devin’s arm. She watches her smile at him, giggling at a something he said. She watches her right hand drift up to rest on his bicep. She watches them round the corner toward the pavilion and out of sight. She rewinds and watches it again.

_________________________________________________

That day had started like every other day of camp.

“Tobin come ON!”

Tobin groans as a pillow slams into her back.

“Tobin breakfast is starting in three minutes! The omelet guy only takes orders for the first five minutes! You KNOW that!!” Alex whines. “So WHY.” Slam. “WON’T.” Slam. “YOU.” Slam. “GET.” Slam. “UP?!” Tobin braces for the final blow, but it never comes. She carefully flips onto her back, but her curiosity gets her in trouble when the pillow hits her square in the stomach and knocks the air from her lungs. She doubles over, holding her stomach, and tries her best to get her breathing back to normal.

“Dude, what the FUCK, Alex?”

Alex stands across the room with her hand on her hips.

“Just get the fuck up, Tobin.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

Five minutes later, they are in the breakfast room placing their omelet orders.

“See! You even had…” Tobin glances at her watch, “…2 minutes to spare!”

Alex gives her a look that makes her think that maybe she should back off unless she feels like getting leveled by a pillow again today.

As the omelets begin arriving, Tobin looks around the room.

“Anyone know where Chris is?” she wonders out loud to no one in particular.

“No, I haven’t seen her yet this morning,” Sonnett chimes in.

“Becky was down here super early when I was going for my run. Maybe she knows?” Carli offers.

Tobin gets up, glances by the food table to pick up a fruit bowl, and continues on to Becky’s table.

“Becks, have you seen Chris this morning?”

“Oh yeah! I thought she would’ve told you, but Devin surprised her this morning!”

Tobin’s eyebrows rise up on her forehead, and Becky nods along.

“Yeah, weird right? I would think he knows camp rules. Anyways, he got here super early, and it kinda woke me up, but I thought I’d give them some space anyways, so I just came down here. They haven’t come down yet though, so I don’t know what they’re doing, and I don’t really know if I WANT to know.” She laughs at her own joke, and the rest of the table joins in. Tobin doesn’t laugh.

“_Devin’s here? Why is Devin here?”_

But she tries to hide her surprise when she responds.

“Yeah, I’ll just catch up with her later. Just tell her to text me if she’s there when you get back to the room, yeah?” Becky nods in response, and Tobin heads back to the table.

A few minutes later, Jill comes into the room.

“Alright guys, good morning. Good to see you all. I hope you all slept well! We have group and individual meetings scheduled all day today and tomorrow. Each of you has been sent the info for which meetings you’re expected to attend, so just make sure you’re on top of that. A summary of the schedules is posted at the front of this room, so take a look at that if you need,” Jill lists off the bullets of information from her notebook. “Oh! Pinoe, Pressy asked if you can switch your solo meeting slot with hers. Is that okay?”

“Yeah for sure!”

“Okay great! She was the first one this morning, so you’re up first now,” Jill scans the list. “Okay, Dawn will be running a couple recovery sessions today, so find one that works with your schedule and make sure you’re taking care of your body. Hydrate, get stretched out, you know the drill. We do have a slight change of schedule for tomorrow. We’re adding one more group recovery session at 3pm tomorrow. It’s just be some light running and drills on the field. So yeah! Get a good breakfast in everyone, and let’s get this day started!”

“Go team!”

“Yeah Jill!”

“Sonnett, sit down!” the younger kids chatter and cheer.

“Alright, Tobs. That’s most of the film we wanted to go over today. I think you’re really putting in the work, it’s just small tweaks and adjustments,” Jill concludes.

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you all in a little bit,” Tobin waves as she stands to leave.

“Yup see ya! Oh, Tobs! Can you send it the next person? It should beee..” Jill searches for her schedule. “Pin – I mean Pressy! It should be Pressy. She’s got a few minutes, but just tell her to come in whenever she’s ready,” she requests, eyes already pouring over her notes for the next meeting.

“Got it,” Tobin acknowledges. She steadies her breath before opening the door. Outside sits Christen, leaning back in an uncomfortable foldable chair.

“Hey!”

“Hey Chris.”

“How’d it go?”

“Pretty well. They just wanted to go over some film from the last game. Nothing crazy.” Tobin shifts her feet, lingering in front of the door.

“I think you’ve still got a couple minutes, but they told me to send you in whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh! Okay!” Christen leans down to gather her notebook, phone, headphones, and pen.

“So I heard Devin came to surprise you,” Tobin ventured.

“Yeah he did! I don’t know – it was kinda sweet of him.” Christen stands from her chair, eyes leveling with Tobin’s.

“Chris,” Tobin hesitates. “Just be careful. I know you were drunk last night, and I don’t know how much you remember of what you told me, but just think it thr-“

“Tobs.” Christen raises her hand in front of her. “I remember what I said, and I’m definitely being careful. But I think I just kinda got ahead of myself. I know he’s been stressed, and it’s not fair for me to jump to conclusions. Anyway, we talked for a long time this morning – that’s why I wasn’t at breakfast – and I think we’re finally on the same page again. I was really honest with him and told him all the things that’ve been worrying me, and he really listened, and we worked through it.” She talks a few steps toward the conference room doors, and Tobin steps out of her way. “Thanks for looking out for me though.”

“For sure,” Tobin meakly smiles and three-finger-waves at Christen.

A group strategy meeting and film session later, Tobin is strolling down the beach, taking in the feeling of every grain of sand against her feet.

Her mind drifts to Christen, as it has been doing all day. Tobin thinks through the conversation she wishes she had with Christen outside that conference room. She thinks about how she wishes she had told Christen that she thinks her friend deserves a partner that doesn’t make her doubt herself. She thinks that maybe she should have reminded Christen that even though her conversation with Devin went well, the fact that she even had to have that conversation is not good enough. Christen deserves better. Tobin thinks that maybe she should have been a better friend and told Christen that.

She veers to the right, back towards the hotel’s pool area. She climbs the steps and begins the walk back to the building through the windy path of small pavilions and cushy outdoor seating areas. She considers stopping for a few minutes in what has become her favorite pavilion, but as she approaches it, she notices it’s taken.

As she gets closer, she sees a familiar figure looking out at the view.

“Devin!”

He spins around. “Tobin! Hey! How’s it going?” He quickly makes his way around the table that’s placed in the middle of the pavilion and toward Tobin.

“Great dude! What’s up?”

They hug with gentle familiarity.

“Just doing a little something nice for Chris,” he says, turning around and motioning at the setup in the pavilion. Rose petals dot the floor and candles hang from the edges of the roof. A small round table with two chairs facing the ocean are the centerpiece of the décor. Each seat is placed in front of a beautiful table setting. Rose petals are piled around two massive candles in the middle of the table. It’s breathtaking.

“Wow,” is all Tobin can breathe out.

“Yeah, dude,” Devin responds turning towards her. Months later, Tobin will think about how she wasn’t meant to notice it. How it wasn’t meant to be an action that her eyes could catch. But they do. They watch Devin’s elbow instinctively raise so his hand can tap is left pant pocket as if to check that whatever is supposed to be there is still there. They follow his hand to the outline of a small box that shows through the fitted pants.

“Wow,” Tobin whispers. Devin realizes his mistake very quickly. His shoulders slump at the ruined surprise, but the smile never falters on his face. In fact, it grows.

“Yeah, dude,” he draws out. And he seems happy – so happy.

And suddenly Tobin is walking straight towards the big glass door at the end of the winding path.

____________________________________________________________________

So here she is. Rewinding. Replaying. And rewinding. And replaying…

It’s 2am when she hears a knock at her door. She’s still has her shoes on.

There’s only a handful of her teammates that would come to her door so late, but she’s surprised when she cracks it open, squinting into the light.

“Oh – hey.”

“Hey,” Christen breaths out. “I didn’t see a light on, but I was hoping you weren’t asleep yet.”

“Nope, still up. Just lying in bed. What’s up?”

A wide smile creeps its way onto Christen’s face. Her left hand slowly lift up next to her face, palm facing away from Tobin, and she wiggles her fingers in the air. The movement makes light dance off the three small diamonds that are suspended on her fourth finger by a thick, rounded, silver band.

Tobin’s lips stretch across her teeth. “Congratulations,” she says with all the enthusiasm she can muster.

“Thanks!” Christen beams. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah! Of course!” Tobin swings the door open and presses the button for the bedside lamp. Christen breezes past her, like her feet are floating on pure glee. As the door eases shut behind Tobin, she places a hand on Christen’s upper arm. “No for real – congratulations. I’m really happy for you guys” Tobin says. Christen hesitates as her eyes search Tobin’s, but she finds nothing but truth in them. And Tobin is proud of that – proud that she is truly happy for Christen’s happiness.

“Thanks, Tobs. That means a lot.”

They shift to the beds, Christen perching on Alex’s empty one and Tobin sitting cross-legged on her own.

“Alex went home?”

“Yeah, we’re so close to her house and she said she misses her dogs, so she asked Jill if she could just head home for the night. I think she said she’d be back for breakfast though.”

Christen nods. Her hand skims across the tightly tucked comforter, and once again, the light catches the glow of the diamonds. Tobin watches as Christen’s eyes follow the twinkling light across the white linen.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Christen responds, though her eyes don’t move from their steady gaze.

“Lover boy left?” Tobin chuckles, wiggling her eyebrows.

Christen looks up in time to catch the face dance and releases a giggle. It feels nice – like it’s breaking some tight threads that have been strung up across the room between her and Tobin.

“Nah, his flight’s in the morning. He has a suite upstairs. We were hanging out up there for a while, but I told him I wanted to come see you for a little, and then I might go back up or go to my room to sleep.” Christen’s eyes meet Tobin’s, and she waits a beat. “I haven’t decided yet.”

It might be wishful thinking, but for a second, Tobin feels like Christen’s decision rests on whatever they talk about in the next few minutes.

“He’s okay with that? You leaving him to hang out with me at 2am?”

Christen scoffs. “He better be!” she jokes. Her face quickly straightens though. “He trusts me,” she speaks almost as if it’s an admission.

“Do you trust him?”

Christen takes a shallow breath. The rise and fall of her chest lines up with the rise and fall of her chin.

Tobin takes a minute to process that, and for some reason Christen understands that Tobin needs a minute. She gives her the minute.

Finally, Tobin breaks the silence. “And you trust him with your heart?” Tobin attempts to confirm for the second time today.

It’s Christen’s turn to take a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so,” she whispers.

“That’s good,” Tobin responds without hesitation. “I really am happy for you guys,” she smiles.

Christen shifts to sit her back against the pillows that are propped up on the headboard. Tobin mirrors her actions until they are parallel to each other, facing a plainly decorated wall. “_This is how we are meant to be,” _Tobin thinks. “_This is how we are meant to live our lives. Next to each other. Not together. This is how it’s meant to be,” _she tries to convince herself. “_This is how Christen wants it to be.”_ That final thought puts all the other racing ones to rest. This is how Christen wants things to be. And Tobin knows she’ll do anything to give Christen what she wants.

“Tobs?” Christen startles Tobin out of the silence.

“Hm?”

“I asked…” she hesitates. “I asked what you had wanted to talk about earlier.” Neither of them move, their eyes trained on the wall before them.

“Oh – it was just –” Thoughts fly through Tobin’s head again, but this time they’re at lightning speed, trying to design the perfect response – the perfect lie. The thoughts fly in all different directions, thrashing, swerving, crashing into one another. No single thought makes sense. No single thought can satisfy Tobin’s urge to stay truthful to her friend. She sighs. “Honestly, I just wanted to make sure you’re happy. I just wanted to ask you are you happy? Because that’s all I want. I want you to be happy, Chris.”

“Oh. I mean yeah, I’m happy. I’m happy things are working out with Devin. I –”

“Don’t settle, Christen.” Christen snaps her head to the side, and she meets Tobin’s eyes. She hadn’t noticed her own mounting anxiety, but she does notice the relief she feels when her eyes find those chocolate ones across the room. “_Maybe the pattern on the wallpaper was making me anxious_,” she reasons.

“I’m not settling, Tobin. I love him.”

“Okay…okay.”

“Okay.”

They both turn their heads back to the dizzying wallpaper.

“I should head to bed.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’m gonna head to my room. Get some sleep, too.” Christen whispers. She slides off the bed as Tobin gets under the covers. “G’night, Tobs.”

“Just hit the lights on your way out,” Tobin calls out.

“Yeah…for sure.”


End file.
